Xalias: An Alias Xfiles Crossover
by slincoln
Summary: A man from Sloane's past threatens Sydney's future.
1. Prologue

Xalias: An Alias/X-Files Crossover  
By: Sam Lincoln  


Summary: A man from Sloane's past has information that threatens Sydney's future.  


Rating: PG-13  


Category: C  


Disclaimer: All characters from Alias and X-Files are the property of Bad Robot, Touchstone Television and 1013. All characters are used without permission and no infringement is intended.  


Xalias: Prologue  


Arvin Sloane walked down a dark alleyway towards an assigned meeting place. Earlier that day he had received a message addressed to him using an old code from his days at the CIA. Intrigued Sloane decided to follow the instructions and see who had sent him the message. The location itself was an abandoned industrial park outside of Washington DC. Sloane crept past the empty buildings keeping an eye out for any sign of an ambush.  


He came to a stop when he smelled the unmistakable odor of cigarette smoke. Sloane turned and saw a figure cloaked in darkness drop a cigarette and then nonchalantly ground it out with its shoe.  


"I should have known it was you," Sloane told the figure.  


"Hello Arvin," the figure replied with a raspy voice. He paused a moment to light a fresh cigarette. The brief flash from the lighter cast weird shadows across the man's craggy face. "It's been a long time."  


"Some people might say it hasn't been long enough," Sloane shot back. He eased his hand into his coat; eventually resting it on his gun.  


"I hope you aren't planning on shooting me Arvin, you should know that I would take measures to make sure you would regret it, at least that was how I trained you."  


"Let me guess, snipers on the roof?" Sloane asked as he eased his hand out of his pocket.  


The other man smiled, "Now that would be telling."  


"What do you want with me, I'm a busy man."  


"Yes I know, running your little SD-6, playing petty games with your insignificant Alliance," the smoking man sneered.  


"That shows you little you know," Sloane defiantly replied. "The Alliance is more powerful than you can imagine."  


"Oh I don't know," the man paused to examine his lit cigarette before continuing. "I can imagine a great deal. You don't think I couldn't crush you and your entire organization if I felt so inclined?"  


"Possibly, but from what I've heard your star's in decline."  


The man smiled, it was about as comforting as seeing a shark chuckle. "My star is never in decline, they need me too much. Which brings me to my point. I want you back Arvin."  


"We've been over this old man, I have no desire to rejoin the Project."  


"I'm not talking about you just coming back, I want you to be my successor." 

"What?" Sloane asked in shock.  


"I'm getting old Arvin, and most of the old leadership has already passed on. There is no one I can think of who would be a better replacement than you."  


Sloane nodded, "You flatter me."  


"It's not flattery if it's the truth. By the way, my condolences on Emily's passing, cancer is so tragic."  


"Thank-you, I'm just glad that she is finally at peace after all her struggle," Sloane replied. Left unsaid was that both men knew the truth about Emily Sloane's passage into the great beyond.  


The old man took a long drag on his cigarette, "I'm sure, and you see Arvin, it's that sort of compassion that makes you the perfect replacement for me. We both understand what needs to be done, and the steps required to get there. And neither one of us will let anything stand between us and our goals."  


"I've invested a lot of time into turning SD-6 into what it is today; you're asking me to just throw that all away?"  


"OH, but you wouldn't have to do that. I wouldn't throw you to the wolves like that." They both knew that was a lie, but Sloane did not see the point in pressing the matter. "You can bring your whole team with you. Think of them as your very own Praetorian guard."  


The wheels in Sloane's mind began to spin. "You want control over the Alliance don't you?"  


"No Arvin, I want you."  


"I don't think so. I think the Alliance is now a threat to your power. So you're trying to neutralize it by co-opting me."  


The other man snorted. "Power, what do you know of power? You petty little Alliance is nothing. You know the work I'm doing, you know its importance. Why continue with your silly pursuit of money when you can advance the Project's goals."  


Sloane leaned in closer to the older man. "Because I think the project is a lie, colonization will never happen, it's all in your head."  


The smoking man dropped his cigarette and ground it out with his foot. "So I take that to be a no then?" He slowly withdrew a new cigarette from his pack of Morley's.  


"That's precisely what I am saying," Sloane growled. "You can make your offers to some other patsy."  


The older man shrugged, "I'm sorry you feel that way, but the offer still stands if you ever change your mind." He paused to light his fresh cigarette. "As my way of showing I have no hard feelings I will even share some intelligence with you. There are traitors in your midst Arvin. Two of them, both working for the CIA."  


"I need names," Sloane demanded.  


"Why Arvin, that would be too easy. You're a master at counter-intelligence, figure it out for yourself." The cigarette-smoking man cast aside his still smoldering cigarette and slipped into the shadows.  


Sloane reached into his jacket and withdrew his cell phone. "It's Sloane, I want Marshall, Dixon and Sydney Bristow in my office as soon as I get back. And get me Jack Bristow immediately," he demanded as he stormed towards his car.  


To Be Continued. 


	2. Chapter 1

Xalias: An Alias/X-Files Crossover

By: Sam Lincoln

Summary: A man from Sloane's past has information that threatens Sydney's future.

Rating: PG-13

Category: C

Disclaimer: All characters from Alias and X-Files are the property of Bad Robot, Touchstone Television and 1013. All characters are used without permission and no infringement is intended.

Xalias: Chapter 1

SD-6, Los Angeles, 5:01 AM

Dixon and Sydney sat next to each other in Sloane's office. Neither of the agents spoke, but they were both visibly worried. Sloane rarely called them in at such an early hour, and when he did it meant a crises of some sort. He also was never late to a meeting he called. After five additional minutes Sloane came bursting into the office with Marshall in tow.

"My apologies for being late, but I just got off a plane," Sloane told the agents as he removed his overcoat and sat down at his desk. "Now pay attention because we do not have much time. Yesterday I received a communique from a former colleague of mine. A man named CGB Spender. Marshall, if you'd please?"

"Oh, right sorry." Marshall handed Sydney and Dixon each a plain manila folder. 

"What you have there is the only known photo of Mr. Spender. He is a man who lives in the shadows. For years he represented the face of the CIA it did not want, but had to have." 

"So he's CIA?" Dixon asked 

"Not anymore, keep in mind that officially he never was a CIA agent, that way the Agency could tell Congress that its agents weren't involved in criminal activities. Spender existed for one purpose, to fight Communism at any cost. When the Cold War ended people like Spender were no longer necessary." 

"So he became a mercenary?" Sydney asked. 

"If only the problem was that simple," Sloane replied. "Spender was a master spy with excellent tradecraft and finely honed survival skills. He operated for thirty years in DC and in that time he amassed a blackmail file second only to Hoover's. A person with that much influence is hard to shake loose," Sloane paused. "Earlier this morning Spender offered to sell me his black book." 

"But why?" Sydney asked in shock. 

"Because, on top of everything else he is, CGB Spender is insane. He suffers from the paranoid delusion that aliens are attempting to colonize the earth and he has been taking steps to prevent it. These steps have included human experimentation, bio-weapon engineering, and possibly the Dallas bombing, you'll find more details in your folders." 

Sydney opened the folder and flipped through the glossy photos. She gasped when she came to images of mangled corpses. "Why didn't anyone put a stop to this?" 

"It's quite simple really, this man has the capacity to bring down the United States government. Watergate, Iran-Contra, Monica Lewinsky, even the Kennedy Assasination were all his doing in response to attempts to shut down his organization. The man in front of you is the one individual most responsible for the path this country has taken for the past forty years." 

Dixon looked up from his folder, "I'm sorry sir, but I find this all hard to believe. You mean to tell us that there's been a shadow government operating behind the scenes for all these years pulling the strings?" 

"That's exactly what I'm saying Agent Dixon." 

"But if he has all this power why is he selling off his crown jewels?" Sydney asked. 

"Because he needs the money," Sloane explained. "His secret war against his aliens is very expensive and without the cold war his sources of funds are drying up." 

"And you want us to take this list off of his hands," Dixon said. 

"Exactly, the damange an enemy of this country could do with such information is unimaginable. To make matters worse we don't know where the information is." 

"Then we pose as buyers, make contact, and grab the information at the exchange," Sydney suggested. 

Sloane shook his head, "No, that's far too dangerous, he would see through your cover in an instant. Spender might not be as powerful as he once was, but he remains the most ruthless man in the world with a formidable intelligence gathering apparatus behind him. What I want is for the three of you to travel to Washington DC, find this information and bring it back here so we can destroy it." 

"Me sir?" Marshall stuttered. 

"Relax Marshall, I want you there to provide technical advice. You won't even have to leave your hotel room." 

"Oh good, action and I don't mix." 

"When do you want us to leave?" Dixon asked. 

"Immediately," Sloane replied. 

CIA Operations, 6:02AM 

Jack Bristow looked up from the computer terminal he was working on and saw Agent Vaughn walking towards him. "You wanted to see me?" Vaughn asked. 

Bristow nodded, "Yes, let's go get some coffee." 

Vaughn looked down at the full cup in his hand, "Sure, I could use a refill." He realized that Bristow wanted to talk to him outside of the office. 

Bristow and Vaughn walked out of the CIA office and found a coffee stand next to the highway. The two agents purchased a cup and then continued to walk to a nearby park. 

"What's this about Jack?" Vaughn asked. 

"First of all you cannot repeat anything I am about to say to anyone, especially Assistant Director Kendall." 

"What, why?" 

"What do you know about a man named CGB Spender?" 

"Who?" Vaughn asked, his confusion deepening. 

"Think Arvin Sloane, except a million times more cunning and ruthless. He is the man who trained Sloane." 

"I didn't know you could train that sort of evil," Vaughn commented. 

"Believe me out of everyone you've encountered: Arvin Sloane, Irena Derevko, Sark, none of them hold a candle to this man." 

"Then why haven't I heard of him? Surely someone that powerful would be a ranking member of the Alliance," Vaughn protested. 

"He's not a member of the Alliance. His organization operates within the governments of the world. And that is why you cannot talk to Kendal or anyone else about this; Spender has penetrated every level of the US government: the CIA, the FBI, the Pentagon, Congress, even the White House," Bristow informed the younger agent. 

"Why are you telling me this now?" Vaughn asked. 

"Because a few hours ago Spender and Sloane had a meeting. I don't know everything that was said, but I do know that Spender told Sloane that there are two CIA agents in SD-6." 

The breath caught in Vaughn's throat, "Did...did he give names?" 

"Would I be standing here if he did?" Bristow sarcastically asked. "He sent Sydney, Dixon, and Marshall to DC to locate the names." 

"Does Sydney know the reason for the mission?" 

Bristow shook his head, "No she doesn't, and I need you to tell her that, as well as that she can trust no one for the duration of this mission." 

"Why are you telling me all this? I could be one of Spender's agents." 

Bristow stared straight into Vaughn's eyes. "Because Sydney trusts you, and I trust Sydney. Now you'd better get going." He handed Vaughn a small package. "This has everything you'll need. ID, tickets, money, and a list of contacts." 

Vaughn took the package, "Where am I going?" 

"DC," Bristow replied. "Make contact with Sydney as soon as you get there. Don't worry, I'll handle Kendall." He held out his hand for Vaughn to shake. "Good luck Agent Vaughn." 

Vaughn shook Bristow's hand, "Thank-you. If I can ask, what are you going to do?" 

"There are only two...three people I can trust completely in this matter. One is on a plane, another is standing in front of me..." 

"And the third?" 

"Is in a jail cell," Bristow said. "You'd better go," he told Vaughn before the younger agent had a chance to say anything. "You'll miss your flight." Bristow waited for Vaughn to walk out of sight before he removed his cell phone and dialed a number. "I'm sorry to wake you, it's Jack. My guy is on his way to you." Bristow hung up the phone and walked back to the CIA building. 

Hilton, Washington DC, 12:09PM 

Dixon, Sydney and Marshall were getting themselves settled into their hotel suite when the phone rang. Marshall was the closest person to the phone so he answered it. 

"Hello?" he said into the receiver. "Oh, hello sir. Sydney's right here...no? OK, sure no problem," Marshall was quiet for a moment. "Got it, I'll tell her. Bye sir." Marshall hung the phone up. 

"Who was that?" Dixon asked. 

"Agent Bristow...err, I mean Sydney's father." 

"What did he want?" Sydney asked Marshall. 

"He asked me to tell you not to forget to visit the Lincoln Memorial," Marshall recited. "Is your father a Lincoln buff?" 

Sydney nodded, "He once told me it was his favorite place to visit in DC." She headed for her room. "If you guys don't mind I'm going to go for a jog to shake the cobwebs loose after that flight." 

"Marshall and I can finish getting things set up here, have fun," Dixon told her. 

"Thanks Dixon," Sydney said as she shut the door behind her. 

A half-hour later Sydney was running up the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, on the lookout for the person she was supposed to meet. She caught sight of a familiar face in a park ranger's uniform and walked over to where the ranger was standing. 

"It's quite a sight," she told the ranger. 

"It is at that," Vaughn agreed. 

"What is with that ridiculous get up?" Sydney asked, indicating the forest green uniform, and tan campaign hat. 

"Your father's idea actually, to help me blend. You are a tourist with questions, and I have answers." Vaughn guided Sydney away from the mass of people examining the huge statue of the former president. "I already know about your mission, your father briefed me." 

"Then you know how important it is that Sloane doesn't get this list," Sydney replied. 

"More than you know. Sloane didn't send you after a blackmail list. He sent you after the names of two moles in SD-6." 

Sydney stared at Vaughn in shock, "How is that possible?" 

"This man, Spender, he has the access. Look Sydney, according to your father this man has compromised the highest levels of the US government. So operating through normal channels is impossible, don't even try to contact the operations center. As for your mission, nothing has changed. Find the list and destroy it." 

Sydney nodded, "Sounds simple enough, if you ignore the fact that I apparently cannot trust anyone, not even my own side." 

Vaughn stared at Sydney, "You've got me," he told the agent. 

Sydney returned her contact's gaze, "Vaughn, thanks." 

"Keep me up to date as best you can," Vaughn instructed Sydney. 

"What are you going to do?" 

"Your father gave me a list of contacts, I'm going to run them down. If I find anything I'll let you know." 

Sydney realized the two of them had been talking longer than was prudent. "I better get back, Dixon might start to get suspicious." 

"Ok, one last thing. Be careful, there's no strike team on standby to save you if something goes bad." 

"I know, and I will." Sydney slipped her headphones on and jogged off. 

"Oh sir, sir?" A voice behind Vaughn asked. 

Vaughn turned around and saw an elderly woman standing there, "Yes, what is it?" Vaughn asked, remembering his cover. 

"I was just wondering if you could answer a few questions I have about the Memorial." 

Vaughn smiled, "Certainly, ask away." He hoped he remembered all the trivia he had studied on the flight. 

"Well, first, was that young woman your girlfriend, I don't see a ring on that finger?" the old lady asked with a twinkle in her eye. 

There were many questions Vaughn was prepared to answer. That was not one of them. "We, I, she, uh..." Vaughn stammered, "We..." He winced, he knew he looked like an idiot at that moment. He took a deep breath. "Yes, that was my girlfriend." 

"And how long have you two been going out?" 

"Almost two years," Vaughn replied. The most convincing lies were the ones that were mixed with the truth. 

"That's sweet, but you should propose to that girl. A nice girl like that won't wait forever you know," the woman admonished Vaughn. 

"That's...complicated...." Vaughn replied. 

"It always seems that way dearie," the old lady observed. "But I've pried enough. Now, what can you tell me about the marble in the statue. 

Lone Gunmen Publishing, 1:12pm 

Langly sat in front of one of the many computers in the Lone Gunmen office playing a round of Quake online. "What a bunch of lamers," Langley muttered to himself as he dispatched another opponent. Suddenly the application shut down and a warning box appeared on the screen. "Son of a bitch!" Langley exclaimed. "Hey guys, get out here!" he shouted as warning bells started to sound. 

"What did you do now you long-haired freak?" Frohike demanded as he stumped into the main room. 

"I didn't do anything, somebody's trying to hack us," Langley protested. 

"Correction somebody is hacking us," Beyers said as he looked at the monitors. "Quick, unplug the network," he instructed Langley. 

Langley ran over to a network switch and yanked out a cable. The alarms all went dead. "There goes my high score," Langley moaned. 

"Leave it unplugged until we know what just happened," Beyers told Langley. "Frohike, print out the log files, we need to assess the breach and figure out what was taken." 

Marriot, 1:13pm 

Marshall looked up from his computer screen, "Whoa," he commented. 

"Whoa?" Sydney repeated, "Marshall, we don't like whoa." 

"Sorry, it's just that I'm looking for information on this Spender guy. And I figured that hacking the usual places would just raise red flags. So what I did was hack into all these underground conspiracy magazines and look for information on shadow governments there." 

"But why look there? Aren't the people who run those things a bunch of cranks?" Dixon asked. 

"By and large yes," Marshall admitted. "But we're looking for an individual who is the shadow government. So there's got to be some truth to what they're saying." 

Sydney looked at Dixon then shrugged. "It's a starting point at least. What did you find?" 

"Pretty much bupkis," Marshall acknowledged. "But I didn't get a full dump from the last place I hit, 'The Lone Gunmen.' They disconnected themselves from the net." 

"Hence the whoa," Sydney concluded. 

Marshall tapped his nose. "Precisely, they figured out I was hacking them, which is pretty impressive because I didn't even see the ice until it had sounded the alarm. Sydney, these guys have the best security I've ever seen on an amateur site." 

Sydney looked at Dixon again, "Makes you wonder what they're hiding." 

"Makes me wonder how we're getting you in," Dixon replied. 

Office of the X-Files, FBI HQ, 2:27pm 

Special Agent Fox Mulder sat in his office trying to battle down the paperwork that had accumulated on his desk. Scully was spending the day in Quantico attending a pathology seminar. Mulder had been amusing himself by calling Scully on a fifteen minute basis and asking her where various office supplies were. He kept that up until Scully tunred off her cell phone; at which point he had no choice to but actually do some work. The rining of the phone on his desk tore his attention away from the expense report in front of him. 

"Mulder," he barked into the phone. 

"Hey Mulder, it's Frohike." 

Mulder sighed, "What's up Frohike?" 

"You'd better get down here. We just got hacked." 

Mulder felt his eyebrows raise. "Did you lose anything important?" 

"We're still trying to figure that out, but this is already plenty weird." 

Out of the corner of his eye Mulder saw a man walk into the office. "That's too bad Frohike," Mulder said. "I'll be over a little later. You can give me all the details then. Bye Frohike." Mulder hung the phone up. "Can I help you?" he asked the man. 

"I sure hope so, my name's Vaughn and I work for the CIA." He held out an ID badge for Mulder to see. 

Mulder stood up and took the badge from Vaughn. He examined it for a moment then handed it back to the man. "So, what can I do for the CIA?" 

"I have a problem and I've been told you can help me solve it." He took a small electrical device out of his coat pocket and placed it on Mulder's desk. "It's a jamming device, just in case," he explained. "Now what can you tell me about CGB Spender?" 

Mulder stared at Vaughn, "I have no idea who you're talking about." 

"Please don't play games with me Agent Mulder. If you're worried I'm going to interfere with your investigation of this man, believe me, I'm not." 

"You're CIA, ask your own people about him," Mulder said. 

"I can't, I don't want to tip him off," Vaughn replied. 

Mulder sighed, "Alright, I'll bite, why are you looking for information on CGB Spender?" 

"That's mostly classified. All I can tell you is that we have an agent in deep cover on an unrelated assignment who needs to acquire some information from this man." 

"Can you tell me what sort of information?" 

"Her name, Spender offered it to the people my agent is working for." 

"So they instead decided to steal it and sent the person they're trying to find after the data?" 

Vaughn shrugged, "She's the best they've got at that sort of thing." 

Mulder noticed the way the other man referred to the agent as "his" but did not comment on it. Instead he walked over to a filing cabinet and removed a thick folder. "Before I show you this folder I have a question for you Mr. Vaughn. Do you believe in aliens?" 

FBI Academy, Quantico VA, 3:18 PM 

Special Agent Dana Scully walked out to her car in the parking lot of the FBI Academy. The pathology seminar she had attended proved to be interesting, but she was glad to be going home. She had long ago resigned herself to the "Mrs. Spooky" role; but it still rankled her when people used that to question her abilities as a scientist. Unfortunately, that was what happened every time she tried to question one of her colleagues assumptions during the course of the seminar. 

She began to unlock her car door then froze when she saw a folder lying on the driver's seat. She cautiously opened the door and stared at the folder. It was a plain manila folder with no indication of what it contained. The only marking on the folder was a simple line drawing of a pyramid surrounding an eye. Without opening the folder Scully carefully picked it up and placed it on the passenger's seat. She briefly scanned the parking lot, looking for the person who left behind the folder. Scully knew she wouldn't find anything; experience taught her that any person who left behind mysterious documents generally did not want to stay and chat. She got into her car and drove off, knowing that Mulder would want to examine the contents of the folder. 

"So much for going home and taking a bubble bath," she muttered to herself. 

FBI HQ, 5:32 PM 

Vaughn sat in Agent Mulder's office staring at a poster that showed a fuzzy picture of a flying saucer and the phrase "I want to believe," in bold type. Mulder had spent the past several hours detailing the history of the alien presence on earth and how Spender related to it. It was almost more than Vaughn could take. The only reason he was there was because Mulder's name was first on the list Jack Bristow handed him. Vaughn respected Bristow's judgment so he figured there had to be something of value Mulder had for him. 

"Agent Mulder, I have a question, does the name Jack Bristow mean anything to you?" 

Mulder frowned, "No, why?" 

"No reason, I was just wondering if we had a mutual acquaintance," Vaughn casually said. 

Mulder's reply was cut off by the office door opening. Vaughn turned in his seat and saw a petite redheaded woman enter the room. "Mulder, we have to talk..." she began to say. "Who the hell is this?" She demanded when she saw Vaughn. 

"Agent Vaughn, this is my partner, Special Agent Dana Scully. Scully, this is Agent Vaughn of the CIA." 

"It's nice to meet you," Vaughn said, holding out his hand. 

"Likewise," Scully replied as she shook Vaughn's hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to speak to my partner for a moment." Scully grabbed Mulder by the arm and dragged him into the far corner of the office. "Mulder, what the hell is a CIA agent doing in your office?" 

"Asking questions about our cigarette-smoking friend if you'll believe it." 

"He what?" 

"He came in here and asked what I knew about CGB Spender." 

"And just like that you told him?" Scully asked in disbelief. 

Mulder shrugged, "Come on Scully it's not like they don't know what we know about him. The person putting his neck out is this guy Vaughn." 

"Ok, so why..." 

"He won't say precisely, it has to do with secret agents. The way I see it if we scratch this guy's back now with a little information he might help us down the road." 

Scully thought for a moment, "Mulder that is the single most politically astute thing I've ever heard you say." 

"Thank-you Scully." 

"But it's going to have to wait. I found this in my car when I got out of the seminar." Scully reached into her briefcase and withdrew the mysterious folder. 

Mulder stared at the symbol on the folder for a long moment, "Agent Vaughn," he finally said. "What do you make of this?" He held up the folder for Vaughn to see. 

"That's...that's an interesting design," Vaughn stammered. 

"I thought so too, tell me, what's the big deal about Milo Rambaldi?" 

"Who's Milo Rambaldi?" Scully asked. 

"An Italian philosopher/scientist from the Fifteenth Century. He was sort of an occult Galileo, Mulder walked over to a filing cabinet and took out a file. "Information on Rambaldi is hard to come by since most of it's classified." Mulder stared at Vaughn. "But from what I have found Rambaldi was pretty foreword thinking, some might even say prophetic." He tossed the file onto his desk. 

"Why are you so interested in Rambaldi?" Vaughn asked, "Seems a little outside an FBI agent's scope." 

"Not mine," Mulder replied. "The level of technical sophistication Rambaldi possessed points to only one conclusion. He was an alien." 

"Mulder, hold on, how does this Rambaldi fit into this?" Scully demanded. 

"The symbol on the cover is Rambaldi's mark," Mulder explained. "And unless I miss my guess that folder is going to have everything a person could possibly want to know about Rambaldi. So why don't we have a look." Mulder opened the folder and removed a flash memory card. 

Vaughn shrugged, "I have no idea what's on that card. Look, I can't talk about Milo Rambaldi because that would endanger the lives of agents in the field. You don't want to be associated with Rambaldi, it's highly dangerous. 

Mulder smiled, "It's not worth the trouble if people aren't trying to kill you. Come on Scully, I know just the guys to tell us what's on this card." 

"Mulder..." Scully started to protest, then stopped and sighed. "Can we at least stop for dinner on the way?" 

"Sure, and why don't you tag along as well Agent Vaughn, we can probably get some answers for you. Trust me, a real-life CIA agent will blow their minds," Mulder smiled in anticipation. "Plus I'll spring for dinner." 

Lone Gunmen Publishing, 9:37PM 

Sydney stood on the roof of the warehouse next to the building Marshall directed her to. She scanned up and down the street, making sure that nobody was around, before tossing a rope line across the gap between the buildings and shimming over to the other roof. 

"I'm on the roof, talk to me Dixon," she muttered into her radio. 

"There should be a door twenty feet from your current position," Dixon told Sydney. 

"Should? I don't like should." 

"These are old plans," Dixon patiently explained. "We have no way of knowing what sort of modifications the current owners have made," Dixon's voice was lost in a brief crackle of static. 

"Dixon, repeat, you're breaking up." 

"Sorry Sydney," Marshall said through bursts of static. "There must be some sort of interference or jamming, you're on your own." Marshall's voice disappeared into the static. 

With a frustrated sigh Sydney switched off her radio and walked towards where Dixon had said the door was. To her relief the door was there and Sydney reached for her alarm spoofing device. The small electronic gadget was designed by Marshall to briefly fool any alarm system into thinking a door or window was still closed. She placed the device on the door frame and then picked the door's lock. The door swung open and she slipped inside. 

The interior of the building was cluttered and dark. Storage boxes lined the hallway she stood in. Sydney took a moment to examine one of the boxes and looked in disgust when she pulled out an old copy of Playboy. 

"I think it's safe to say there are not women in this organization," she observed. She also gave silent thanks that the magazine was not sticky. 

Sydney moved down the hall, keeping an eye out for any cameras, laser eyes, or pressure sensitive floor plates. She came to a stop in front of the first door she found. A brief examination of the door showed that it was not connected to any alarms. Confident that it was safe Sydney opened the door and entered the room. 

The room was much like the hallway in that it was cluttered with storage boxes. Sydney examined the room and to her relief she found a computer that was plugged into a network port. She unplugged the computer from the network and in its place plugged in one of Marshall's hacking devices. 

Sydney impatiently waited for the device to finish pillaging the local network for data. IN part she was nervous because she was stealing from a group of law-abiding American citizens. Most of her missions were against crime syndicates and other so-called "bad guys," who were looking to commit crimes, but here she did not even know if she would accomplish anything productive. She almost envied Dixon and Marshall in that regard, they at least believe they were working for the benefit of the American people. 

The device signaled that it was finished, breaking Sydney from her reverie. She gathered up her tools and headed for the door. Unfortunately just as she was reaching for the handle the door swung open, revealing a short man with dark, receding hair and a salt and pepper five o'clock shadow. 

"Leaping lizards!" the man shouted. "A black-ops agent!" 

"I'm sorry," Sydney muttered as she knocked the man out with a blow to the head and dragged him into the room. 

"Frohike?" A voice called out, "Is something wrong?" 

"Just great," Sydney muttered. "Precisely what I need right now." She ducked back into the hallway in an attempt to make it back to the roof before anyone came after the man. She hid behind a storage crate when she heard footsteps coming from the direction of her exit. 

"Are you sure you heard something?" Sydney heard a woman ask. 

"Positive, I know Frohike's squeals of terror," a man replied. 

Sydney took a deep breath and assessed the situation. There were two people standing between her and the door. She did not know if they were armed, or if anyone else was in the building. "I've been in worse spots though, that's for sure," she thought. 

Sydney waited for the footsteps to get closer before making her move. Based on the sound of the footballs she had a rough idea of the man and woman's position. She settled on taking the man out first since he was likely to be the larger and more challenging hand to hand opponent in close quarters. 

As soon as the pair was almost on top of her Sydney rolled out from behind the box and struck. Sydney's mind had time to register stringy blonde hair and a large nose before she attacked the man. Her roundhouse kick connected with the side of the man's head. The force of the blow knocked him into the wall and he slumped to the ground. Sydney turned to face the woman and found herself staring down the barrel of a handgun. 

"Federal Agent, don't move," the woman, a petite red head, ordered. 

To be Continued 


	3. Chapter 2

Xalias: An Alias/X-Files Crossover  
By: Sam Lincoln  


Summary: A man from Sloane's past has information that threatens Sydney's future.  


Rating: PG-13  


Category: C  


Disclaimer: All characters from Alias and X-Files are the property of Bad Robot, Touchstone Television and 1013. All characters are used without permission and no infringement is intended.  


Xalias: Chapter Two  
Sydney silently cursed and raised her hands. "What the hell is an FBI agent doing here?" she wondered to herself. Sydney filed the question away for later, at that moment her primary concern was not getting arrested.

The women reached into her pocket and took out a cell phone. She dialed a number and held the phone up to her ear, all without taking her eyes off of Sydney. "Mulder it's me. Get up here quick. We have a visitor."

Sydney realized that her window of opportunity was closing and that she had to act now. She dropped down and took the woman's feet out with a sweep kick. The FBI agent fell to the ground, her gun went flying when she hit the floor. Sydney picked up the dropped firearm and rain for the staircase leading up to the roof. On her way there she dashed past a man in a dark suit who was walking up a staircase.

"Mulder!" the red head shouted. "Stop her!"

Sydney turned and fired a round over the man named Mulder's head causing him to duck down. By the time he emerged from cover Sydney had made it up the stairs and was on the roof. She was getting ready to cross her rope bridge when a bullet impacted the roof next to her.

"That was a warning shot," Mulder said. "Drop the gun and step away from the ledge."

"Sorry, I don't do that," Sydney said while still facing away from the man. She freed the rope line's grapnel with her foot.

"I will shoot you if I have to," Mulder warned.

"I know," Sydney replied. "Tell your partner I'm sorry and I'll return her gun when I get a chance."

"You'll get your chance right now because you're going to step away from the ledge and put your hands up," Mulder ordered.

Sydney turned around and faced Mulder," Like I said, I can't do that." She then leaned backwards and fell off the roof, taking the rope line with her. Sydney grabbed hold of the rope and swung down. When she judged herself close enough to the ground she released the rope and fell to earth.

From the roof Mulder watched as the mystery woman picked herself up off the ground and disappeared into the night. "Damn," was all he could say.

Scully burst onto the roof. "Mulder, what happened?" she demanded.

Mulder turned and faced his partner, "She jumped," he said as he walked back into the building.

"Well what the hell happened to my gun?" Scully called after Mulder.

The agents walked downstairs where they found Frohike and Langley nursing their injuries. "Did you catch the bitch?" Frohike asked.

"No, she got away," Mulder dejectedly replied.

Beyers and Agent Vaughn came running up the stairs. "What's going on?" Vaughn asked, "We heard gunfire."

"You're a little late to the party," Mulder wryly noted.

"That would be my fault," Beyers said, "I insisted we lock everything down before we came up here to investigate."

"Well I don't know what she was doing," Frohike said, "but she was standing inside my office when I opened the door. She knocked me out before I could use my kung-fu on her."

"She was waiting for Langley and me," Scully commented, "Very well-trained in hand to hand combat as well," she added.

"And not interested in being captured, resourceful too. Agent Vaughn, you wouldn't happen to know anyone like that?" Mulder asked.

Vaughn stared deliberately at the Lone Gunmen, "No, doesn't ring any bells."

"If you say so," Mulder did not sound convinced. "The question now is what did she take?"

"The better question would be what didn't she take," Beyers noted. "We were hacked again."

"But that's impossible, we're still not connected to the net!" Langley protested.

"It's possible if the person was hooked up to the LAN," Beyers pointed out. "Why else would someone break in?"

"Wow, a ninja and a hacker, I'm in love," Frohike said.

"So what was taken?" Scully asked, ignoring Frohike.

Beyers shrugged, "It looks like everything that wasn't taken earlier today. There's no damage to any of our systems, the data has just been copied."

"Were you working on anything especially juicy?" Mulder asked the Gunmen.

Beyers shook his head. "There wasn't anything earth-shattering going into the next edition. Certainly nothing worth this much attention."

Mulder nodded, "Why don't you guys find out everything you can about the hackings and then give me a call."

"There's no need, I know who did it," Langley declared.

"Langley, don't be an idiot, it can't be him. He doesn't exist," Frohike protested.

"Who doesn't exist?" Scully asked.

"There used to be this guy, he was the best hacker on the net. No system was safe from him. He was literally the ghost in the machine. And then a couple of years back he vanished," Langley explained.

"What happened to him?" Mulder wondered.

Frohike shrugged, "Nobody knows," he said, picking up the story. "The guy stopped posting his hacks. The thing about this guy was that he was old-school. He never took anything, just a screen cap to prove what he did. He'd always email the sys admin of a network he hacked and told the guy how he broke in and how to plug the hole."

"What was his name?" Vaughn asked. It was the first time he had voluntarily taken part in the conversation that night.

"I only knew him by his on-line handle, the Flinkenator," Langley replied.

Mulder frowned, "What aren't you telling me?" he asked Vaughn.

"Plenty," the CIA agent replied. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Plenty," Mulder defiantly replied.

"Alright you two that's enough!" Scully snapped. "Mulder stop asking Agent Vaughn questions he can't answer. Agent Vaughn, stop antagonizing Mulder," she ordered the two agents. "As for you three," she turned to face the Gunmen, "if you want to file a report with the police do so, otherwise this isn't a job for the FBI." Scully stormed off towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Mulder asked.

"Home," Scully replied. "I've had a long day and I'm going to take a hot bath and go to bed. If anyone here actually wants to be useful they could find out what's on that disk." The five men watched as Scully stomped down the stairs.

Frohike eased next to Mulder, "What disk?" he asked the agent.

-Marriot, 12:13pm-

Sydney watched as Marshall continued to pour over the data she had retrieved from the Lone Gunmen. "Find anything yet?" she asked the tech.

"Tons," Marshall replied.

"Find anything that might help us?" Sydney clarified.

"Ahh...not so much," Marshall admitted.

"Well keep at it, if there's anyone who can find what we need it's you," Sydney told Marshall.

"Thanks Sydney, there is one thing. It's not really directly related to Spender, but it's something. There are a pair of FBI agents investigating Spender. They specialize in a lot of really out there cases."

"What do you mean by out there?"

"They investigate Bigfoot and alien abductions, stuff like that."

"Spender believes in aliens," Sydney pointed out.

"Just because you believe in something doesn't make it true," Marshall said, "I should know, I've analyzed enough data units for SETI at Home."

Sydney smiled, "So other than investigating loopy cases what's so special about these FBI agents?"

"That's just it, because they investigate unexplained phenomena they've probably bumped into Spender's organization on more than one occasion."

"Well I suppose asking them a few questions couldn't hurt anything. Give me their records and I'll talk to them tomorrow morning." Sydney told Marshall.

"Sure thing, I've got them right here." Marshall handed Sydney two sheets of paper.

Sydney looked at the paper and her face turned slightly gray, "Uh Marshall, I think we have a problem."

"What's that?"

Sydney held up the two pieces of paper with Mulder and Scully's pictures on them. "These are the two agents who were at the Lone Gunmen's office tonight."

"You mean the ones you assaulted because you didn't want to explain why your illegal breaking an entering wasn't really illegal at all?"

"Yes Marshall, those agents."

"Well now, that's quite a pickle," Marshall observed. "Fortunately I, Marshall Flinkman, have a plan."

Sydney yawned, "That's great Marshall, but can it wait till tomorrow? I'm pretty tired."

Marshall looked down at his watch, "Oh sure, no problem. I'll just stay here and keep going over these things."

"Okay, don't have too much fun without me," Sydney said with a smile as she walked over to her room. She wasn't even sure Marshall heard her door close.

-Credit Dauphine, 8:52 am, EST-

The phone on Sloane's desk rang and the spy master immediately picked it up. "Hello?" he snapped.

"Good morning Arvin, you're in early," Spender said.

"Just because I'm in a different time zone is no reason to let world events get ahead of me," Sloane replied. 

"That always was your way Arvin," Spender said conversationally.

"What do you want old man?"

"A disc containing a collection of Rambaldi documents has found its way into the hands of a pair of FBI agents. I'm sure you have nothing to hide, but you never know where a reading of those files might lead."

"I see, and just what exactly are you expecting in return for this nugget of information?"

"Why Arvin, I'm hurt, are you that cynical to think that I cannot be altruistic?"

"You always play an angle, usually two or three. The trick is to figure out what those second and third angles are."

Spender laughed, "You don't know how nice it is to work with an operative who understands the game as well as you do Arvin."

"You haven't answered my question," Sloane wearily asked.

"Let's just say that if you clean up your mess through your usual methods you will have removed a considerable thorn from my side."

"I see, and what makes you think I will resort to my usual methods?"

"Because these agents have undoubtedly read the file by now and know enough to make your life very difficult."

"I shall take the matter under advisement, thank-you for bringing this to my attention."

"You are more than welcome Arvin, and forget, my offer still stands." Spender hung up the phone before Sloane could reply.

Sloane stared at the receiver for a moment before dialing a number. It pained him to do what Spender wanted, but the secrecy of SD-6 was more important than any other concern. "Hello Jack, it's Arvin, we have another problem, two FBI agents. What do you think I'm going to do? I'll take care of them. Has there been any progress made on collecting Spender's list? I see, keep me informed." Sloane hung up the phone and turned his attention to another report that lay on his desk.

-Office of Fox Mulder, 9:13 AM-

Vaughn entered Mulder's office without so much as a perfunctory knock. From what he had seen of the man yesterday Vaughn doubted he would be interrupting anything important. Inside he found Mulder talking to a stern-looking black man. Vaughn instantly recognized the man as Dixon, Sydney's partner at SD-6.

"What is he doing here?" Vaughn wondered to himself. He tried to slip out of the room before either Mulder or Dixon saw him.

Unfortunately he was met at the door by Agent Scully. "Oh hello Agent Vaughn, what are you doing here?"

Mulder looked up and saw Vaughn for the first time. "Hey Agent Vaughn pull up a pew. I'd like you to meet Agent Dixon, also of the CIA. I tell you, all this attention from the boys at Langley, you'd think I was a threat to national security or something."

Vaughn nodded to Dixon, "I didn't realize you had company already, I'll come back later," he told Mulder.

"No, that's alright, I have what I came for," Dixon said as he stood up. "It was nice meeting you Agent Vaughn." 

"Likewise," Vaughn replied. Part of him wanted to ask where in the CIA Dixon worked, but he knew that was a bad idea, especially in front of the CIA.

Mulder waited for Dixon to leave the office before speaking. "Interesting guy," he commented, "He came in here and basically asked the same questions you did, only he disguised them better."

Vaughn sat down in the chair Dixon recently vacated. He noticed that the seat was still warm. "Really, well the CIA's a big place, it's not uncommon for two sections to be working on the same thing from different angles."

"I just figured one of you wasn't really with the CIA," Mulder said casually.

"Why would somebody pretend to be a CIA agent?" Vaughn asked, trying not to sound defensive. Even though SD-6 was a criminal organization its existence was still classified top secret.

"Oh relax, I don't think you're a fake. Mr. Dixon was a better liar. You asked flat-out about the Cancerman, he beat around the bush. AT the very least he's hiding something." Mulder saw the uncomfortable look on Vaughn's face. "Don't worry, I'm not going to aske you what you know about it. But let me guess, that guy is part of the reason you're here."

Vaughn took his time forming his reply. "I've been investigating an international crime syndicate. Recent intercepts have pointed to a possible connection to this man Spender."

"So you're saying the man who was just in here was a criminal?" Scully asked. "We have to stop him."

"I wouldn't recommend that," Vaughn said. "He's a small fish and wouldn't know anything useful. This is a very sophisticated outfit, very compartmentalized." The last thing Vaughn wanted to see was Dixon arrested. That would lead to uncomfortable questions for everyone.

"Mulder, what do you think?" 

Mulder examined his fingernails, "Let the guy walk. He didn't learn anything that vital, and Agent Vaughn's probably right. This guy wouldn't know anything useful, why else would he get sent to the FBI?"

Scully sighed, "Alright, we let the guy walk." 

"So what brings you back down to the basement Agent Vaughn?" 

"I just wanted to follow up on a few things from yesterday," Vaughn replied. 

"Such as?" 

"Do you think that disc you received is in any way related to any of this?" 

Mulder raised an eyebrow, "Now that's an interesting question to ask." 

Scully looked at the two men and sighed, "If the two of you are going to keep up this stupid macho posturing I'm going to go get some actual work done." She walked out of the office, letting the door slam shut behind her.

"I think we've just been chastised," Mulder observed. "So tell me Agent Vaughn, why exactly is everyone interested in this Rambaldi character?" he asked. Mulder leaned back in his chair and fixed his gaze on Vaughn.

"I couldn't tell you Agent Mulder," Vaughn replied as truthfully as he could.

"But that doesn't' mean you don't know," Mulder shot back. Mulder stood up and began to pace. "Here's what I think. Milo Rambaldi found something, I'm guessing alien technology. He figured out how it worked and wrote down all his observations. Now everyone is falling over themselves to put Rambaldi's puzzle pieces together, because whatever he found it's an instrument of power."

"That's...that's a pretty entertaining story," Vaughn said to stall for time.

"I already know I'm right, I don't need you to confirm or deny it."

"So what are you going to do if you know so much?"

"What do you think? Rambaldi is proof that aliens have been visiting us for hundreds of years. As soon as I find a working Rambaldi device I'll go public. They won't be able to hid behind their lies after that."

"And then what?"

Mulder shrugged, "We'll see what happens when I get that far."

"Do you think that Spender is involved in any of this?" Mulder casually asked the FBI agent.

"That's the second time you've asked me that, what gives?"

"Like I told you yesterday, this impacts an agent of mine, and I'm very protective of my deep cover agents."

Mulder stared at Vaughn for a moment to guage the other man's reaction, "Alright, I have no idea who planted the disc in Scully's car. But I can tell you this much, whoever did wanted me to know about Rambaldi."

-CIA Detention Center-

Irina Derevko sat patiently in her cell and thought. The CIA did not allow anything in her cell so she had plenty of time to think. The sound of footfalls I the hallway caused her to open her eyes and sit up on her cot.

"Hello Irina," Jack said as he stepped into view.

"Why Jack, what pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Jack reached into his pocket and withdrew a small device that he placed on the cell door. "It's a jamming device," he explained.

"And what do you need to hid from your CIA colleagues?" Irina asked.

"Two nights ago CGB Spender set up a meeting with Sloane," he said. Irina stiffened at the name. "He offered Sloane the number two slot in the Consortium."

"Did he accept?"

"What do you think?" Jack rhetorically asked. "However, Spender did offer Sloane something to change his mind."

"The truth about you and Sydney," Irina said.

Jack nodded, "Precisely. Fortunately Sloane sent Sydney after the list."

"I would very much like to wring that black-lunged son of a bitch's neck," Irina observed.

"I'm sure," Jack noted.

"Why are you here Jack?"

"Because I'm sure you recognize how disastrous a merger of the Alliance and the Consortium would be, and I need your help to make that does not happen."

"I trust you have a plan?"

Jack nodded, "Naturally." He passed a two sheets of paper through the food slot in the cell door.

Irina picked up the paper and read it over, "This is good Jack. If you'd pass me something to write with I'll provide you with some names that can be trusted in this matter."

Jack reached into his pocket and withdrew a black crayon. "You didn't think I was going to give you a pen did you?"

Irina briefly chuckled, "No I suppose not." She made some notations on the blank page Jack had provided. "Watch out for yourself Jack, all of these men hate CGB Spender, but they also have no reason to trust a CIA agent."

Jack nodded, "I expected as much."

"You're playing a dangerous game Jack, for Sydney's sake take care you don't end up dead."

"Since when have you cared about Sydney's welfare?"

"Since the day she was born," Irina admitted. "It's just that my duty got in my way."

Jack grunted but did not say anything in reply. "I should go, we don't want anyone to get suspicious." He reached out and turned off the jamming device.

"Good luck Jack," Irina said as Jack walked out of the cell block. She returned to her cot and closed her eyes. She had quite a bit to think about now.

When Jack left the detention center his cell phone began to ring, "Bristow," he said into the phone.

"Hello Jack," Spender said. "I trust your meeting with Derevko went well?"

"It did," Jack tersely replied.

"And do you have the list?"

"I do."

"Excellent, meet me in the usual spot," Spender ordered before ending the call.

Jack pocketed his phone and continued on his way.

-To Be Continued-


End file.
